


Written in the stars

by Fragged



Series: In Our Time [1]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragged/pseuds/Fragged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future looks bright. Or, you know, pretty goddamn weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written in the stars

“Why did we drop out? There's nothing here.” 

Rush shakes his head, eyes never leaving his console. “No reason I can see yet, Colonel.” 

“Wait,” Volker says. “There's something weird with the spectrometer readings. It looks almost like a solar flare. But that's impossible, there are no stars anywhere _near_ here.” 

From one second to the next, the view outside the bridge's window changes drastically. 

“Oh, that can't be good.” 

“Is it...is it a seedship?” Eli asks. 

“No,” Rush says, face tense. “That's Destiny.” 

-

Rush immediately blocks the ship's automated docking procedures, and both ships hang still in dead space for half a minute before the radio crackles to life. 

_“Destiny, this is Colonel Everett Young. We'd like to ask permission to dock.”_

“How is this possible?” Young asks Rush. The man looks pensive and distracted as he shakes his head. 

“This is Colonel Everett Young, who the hell are you?” 

It's incredibly strange to hear your own voice chuckling over the intercom speakers. _“We're you, three years from now. We've come to give you the help we received back then.”_

“Help?”

_“Look, we know you've hit a streak of bad luck with the past few planets. We know you haven't been out of stasis long enough to get hydroponics up and running again. You need food, you need medicine, and you need to decontaminate your water supply.”_

“What's he talking about, our water reserves are fine,” Park says. “Right?” 

No one answers. They'd thought it was fine, yes. Water was one of the only things they weren't running dangerously low on. 

“It could be a trick,” Eli says, but he sounds uncertain.

 _“It's actually not the water that's the problem,”_ Rush's voice comes over the speakers. _“There's an organism in the filters, and it's multiplying as we speak. People will start getting sick in a few weeks if you don't intervene.”_

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Young asks into the radio. 

_“I guess there's no way to know for sure.”_ the other Young says over the sound system. _“But this is not the first time you've dealt with time travel. It's not even the second time. Considering I have the same ship as you, the same voice as you, and the same knowledge as you... I'd say the most likely scenario is that we are telling the truth,”_ the other Young responds. 

Young looks around the room. When his eyes land on Rush, the man gives him a slight shrug and a raised eyebrow. 

“Fine,” Young says over the intercom. “Initiate docking sequence.” 

-

“We know, because we were you, three years ago,” the other Young says. 

He and the other Rush are standing in the docking vault. They look...different. Not by much, nothing drastic, but their faces are a little more filled out, a bit healthier in color. Rush's hair is a tad longer, peppered with a few more gray strands. They're both wearing military fatigues. 

“Well, it's not quite that simple, obviously,” the other Rush says with an intent look at Rush, who narrows his eyes but inclines his head in a short nod. “But that's something you'll have to discover along the way.” 

“Wait, can't you just tell us? I mean, you must have some advice from the future, right? Some warnings about which planets to avoid and stuff?” Eli asks. 

“We can only tell you the exact same things we were told three years ago,” the other Young says patiently. 

“It's a delicate system, one wrong bit of data could offset everything,” the other Rush adds. 

The other Young puts his hand on the other Rush's shoulder. “Rush can show you how to clean up your water filters.” The other Young looks Young right in the eye, and he could swear he sees the hand on the other Rush's shoulder squeeze gently. Why the other Rush hasn't flinched away or shrugged him off yet, he has no idea. “In the meantime, I'd like to bring a few others in to help restock your supplies. Greer, Scott, and Eli.” 

Young nods, and feels an odd sense of relief when the other Young finally lets his hand slide off the other Rush's shoulder. 

The other Rush beckons Rush, Camile, and TJ to follow him, while the other Young opens the docking hatchway and steps back into his own Destiny. 

“This is seriously one of the coolest things that has ever happened to us,” Eli says into the kino he'd brought along to document everything. He looks excited. 

“Right, before I forget,” the other Young says from outside the doorway. “Eli, you should record everything that happens today. Every interaction between us and you. You'll need it for future reference.” 

-

Their doubles bring in an incredible amount of supplies. 

They bring in crates full of food; vegetables and fruit, but also frozen meat and a large amount of strangely orange flour, with handwritten instructions on how to use it to create pasta, and how to bake it into bread. There are seeds for hydroponics, two crates full of a spun wool that is softer than cashmere, and another crate that is filled with homemade deodorant, toothpaste, and soap. 

Within the first hour the gateroom looks completely different. Dozens of metal crates are lined up in haphazard rows in the center of the room. One crate is filled to the brim with neatly labeled dried herbs, medicinals. Young knows TJ is going to love that, because he can tell she's been worrying about the depleted state of the infirmary's reserves. 

The labels on the herbs are in blocky letters. Easy to read, but not TJ's handwriting, and a surge of concern goes through Young. Why hadn't the other TJ labeled them herself? 

The other Young seems to know exactly what he's thinking. “She's still alive,” he says quietly, with a comforting touch on Young's elbow. 

“Does she have any symptoms yet?” 

The other him shakes his head. “No symptoms, nothing like that.” 

It should calm him down, but it tells him so little. “Then what's going on? Why is she not here right now?”

The other Young tightens his grip on his elbow minutely, before letting go. “She's not here, because she wasn't there when this happened to me three years ago. We told you, we can't stray from what's already happened.” 

“So you're not going to tell me what's going on with her? If you found a way to cure her?” He has to keep himself from swatting away the kino that's hanging in the air next to them, recording every word they exchange.

“I'm sorry. I can't. All I can tell you is that TJ is alive. Try to take comfort in that.” With that, the other him turns around and walks back into the corridor. Back to the docking vault. Back to his own Destiny. 

Young has to stomp down on the urge to follow him. To just waltz through the hatchway and take a look around this future Destiny. See who's still there, how everyone is doing. What life is like, three years from now. 

He knows he can't. Satisfying his own need to know isn't worth sacrificing...whatever it is that potentially changing the future would sacrifice. 

He curses angrily before turning to help the other Scott with a particularly heavy crate.

-

“Colonel,” Rush greets him as he enters the gateroom in a quick stride. 

“Rush,” he nods at him. “Did you figure out the water situation?” 

Rush looks over the crates, examining a piece of particularly brightly colored fruit. “They were right, there was something growing in the filters. Brody and Volker are helping Lieutenant Johansen decontaminate the remaining ones.” 

“Well, that's good news, then,” Young says. 

They stand in silence for a few moments. Rush drops the fruit back into its crate. 

“Do you have any idea what's going on?” Young asks finally. It's been three hours since the other Destiny dropped out next to them, and it still all feels like a strange hallucination. None of it makes any sense, and some of the questions in his mind are driving him up the wall. 

Rush gives him a troubled look. “I don't... I don't understand all of it, no.” 

“But is it us? Are they really us, three years from now?” Young looks at the way Rush's eyes track back and forth across the wall, like he's thinking, and wonders if he's trying to figure out the answer, or if he's trying to come up with a plausible lie. 

“They're obviously a version of us, yes. But I'm not sure whether our future is as set in stone as they seem to believe.” 

“You mean you think we won't be _them_ in three years?” 

Rush shrugs. “I really don't have enough data to say one way or the other, Colonel.” 

Alright, Young thinks. Maybe Rush really doesn't know. Maybe he has a hunch that he's not comfortable sharing yet. Maybe he does know, but he hasn't decided if he can use the information for his own purposes. It's the typical Rush Trifecta, and he can't do much more than keep it in mind as he moves past it.

“How did they _get_ here, you think?” 

Rush turns to him more fully. “They somehow managed to travel through a wormhole that was in a state of flux. The readings Volker mentioned right before they arrived, I think those indicate they used energy from a solar flare.” 

Young nods. 

“The bigger question is, how are they going to get back?” 

“No solar flares way out here,” Young says. 

“Exactly,” Rush agrees. “They seem to have a rather precise idea of when they will leave again, but I have no clue as to how they'll manage that.” 

“The other Rush didn't tell you anything useful?” 

Rush snorts. “Oh, I'm certain he did. Little bits of information that are utterly meaningless without the context of what we will experience in the coming three years. Useless right now, things that will only gain meaning as time moves forward.” Rush crosses his arms with an annoyed frown. “Bloody irritating, if you ask me.” 

Young feels his lips quirk upwards, amused that Rush not getting along with his own doubles is now technically a consistent pattern. 

“So you two had a good time, then?” 

“Smug bastard,” Rush mutters under his breath. Young isn't sure if it's aimed at him or at the other Rush. 

“Right,” he says. 

So basically, he still knows nothing. 

-

“Everyone is really excited about all the new food and the supplies, but they also want to know more about the other us,” Chloe says reasonably. “We were thinking...maybe we could organize sort of a shared dinner, tonight? With the others as guests of honor? So people could ask them questions, and we could celebrate a little bit.” 

“Yeah, this is one of the luckiest breaks we've ever caught,” Eli pipes up. “And seriously, I haven't even said hi to myself, and that's just not cool. Did you see the other me? He carried like ten crates here! I'm pretty sure I'm really awesome in the future.” 

Young allows a hint of the smile that wants to form on his lips. Sometimes he thinks these two keep the ship from descending into darkness. Their youthful enthusiasm, their endless quest to make life on Destiny more fun, it brings a touch of lightness to the ship that Young deeply appreciates.

Besides, Eli and Chloe aren't wrong. It would be good for morale to have something like a celebration. They've been focused on surviving for the past two months, but now that they have supplies, maybe this is a good moment to take the night off. A little bit of relaxation after the constant struggle of hanging on by a thread. 

“Alright. You two go over the preparations for dinner with Becker. I'll discuss the rest with the other Young,” he says. 

Eli beams, and Chloe looks like she's trying really hard not to look too overjoyed as she thanks him. They immediately leave for the mess hall, chattering excitedly about sandwiches and pizza and steak, and Young smiles after them fondly. 

-

That night there's a veritable feast in the mess hall. After weeks of eating nothing but protein slush he's sure anything would taste good, but Becker has truly outdone himself today. There is meat, and sauce, and grilled vegetables, and there's honest-to-God bread. It's bright orange, but it tastes like actual bread, and Young had never imagined there'd come a day when he'd almost cry over the taste of bread, but here it is. What makes it all even better is that the other Young ensured him that the grain will thrive in hydroponics, so they'll be able to produce their own before they run out of their new flour reserves. 

Needless to say, Young is in a much better mood than he's been all day. 

A lot of people have come to see the doppelgangers, these versions of Young, Rush, Scott, Greer, and Eli, that have been through three more years of this. 

Some of the crew seem despondent, the confirmation that they will not succeed in getting back to Earth in the next few years crumpling their already teetering vestiges of hope. Others seem excited, asking the doubles question after question about their own future selves, like all of this is a fun game of crystal ball gazing. 

Eli is in deep conversation with his other self, and Young doesn't miss the glances the other Rush keeps stealing at them until the other Young discreetly touches his wrist to get his attention. The other him and the other Rush share a look, one Young has no way to interpret, and then the other Rush nods and smiles ever so slightly, before going back to his food. 

Young is flabbergasted. Probably more than he should be after such an insignificant little moment. 

But it _wasn't_ insignificant. It was him and Rush, and non-verbal communication and casual touching, and _smiling_ , for fuck's sake. 

Does he actually become friends with Rush over the next couple of years? 

When his eyes dart over to Rush, he gives Young a look that is as baffled as Young feels. He saw too, then. They hold eye contact for a few moments, until a roaring laugh from another table diverts Young's attention. When he looks back, Rush is glancing over at the other Rush again. 

He wonders what would happen if he touched Rush's wrist the way the other Young had. His Rush would probably startle, and jerk away, and generally just look at him like he was trying to murder him. There certainly wouldn't be any deeply meaningful eye contact or coy little smiles, that's for damn sure. 

He catches the other Young looking at him, an amused expression on his face. 

He hopes dinner will be over soon. 

-

“Where are they?” Young barks. How could they have lost the other him and the other Rush? 

“Uh, they said they were heading to the control interface room,” Volker says. 

Rush lets out a frustrated curse. 

“Come on,” Young says to him, and then they're running through the corridors, making their way to the control room as quickly as they can. 

Who knows what the other versions of them are doing? If they even _are_ them. Maybe all of this was a ploy, a way to distract them and take control of Destiny, some plot by aliens smarter and meaner and more advanced than them. Fuck. 

When they finally reach the door of the control interface room, Young draws his sidearm and nods at Rush to push the opening mechanism. 

The moment the door whirs open, he hears a breath hitch. It takes him a moment to realize it was him, he heard himself, because the sight in front of him slams into his gut like a wrecking ball.

The other Young has pushed the other Rush up against the wall, one thigh pressed in between his legs. His mouth is plastered to Rush's neck. One of his hands is in Rush's hair, cradling his head, and the other is somewhere out of sight, between their bodies. The other Rush has his head thrown back. He scratches his fingers into the shoulders of the other Young's jacket and lets out a ragged moan, eyes closed in something that can only be described as bliss. The moment after he and Rush appear in the door opening both men freeze, and it's as if time stands still for several seconds. 

Everything starts moving again at once when the other versions of them pull away from each other hurriedly, but with obvious reluctance. Young has to fight to keep from glancing over at Rush, to see how he is taking this. He can't look at him, not while the image of the other Rush's flushed face and wet lips is still burning in his mind. 

Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on here? 

“Well,” the other Young says eventually, almost managing to sound casual. “That happened.” 

“What the _fuck_?” Rush demands angrily. And for once Young can wholeheartedly concur. 

“Oh, calm down, would you? It's not like you didn't suspect already,” the other Rush says dismissively. 

Rush sputters, and Young would find it funny if he wasn't too busy freaking the fuck out, because _what the hell is going on here_?!

“Look, why don't we all just take a minute to compose ourselves,” the other Young says reasonably. “You might want to put away your gun, Colonel.” 

Right. His gun. That he is still holding, aimed halfway at the floor now. Jesus. 

He turns away from the two men in front of him as he holsters his weapon. He can tell that Rush is full of wound up tension from the way his hands have curled into tight fists. Even the ends of his hair tremble, as if there's a vibrating energy running through his entire being. 

He wants to tell Rush to relax, but that would be a bit hypocritical, seeing as his own heart is still pounding loudly in his ears. Besides, he has no interest in being punched in the face right now. 

“What, you're not even going to attempt to convince us it's not what it looks like?” Rush bites out.

The other Young shrugs placidly. “It's not a secret.” 

Rush snorts. “Right, because you military lot are so fond of homosexuality.” 

“ _That's_ what's bugging you about this?” Young asks incredulously. 

“Be more specific, Colonel,” Rush says disdainfully. “The gay part, or the military part?” 

“Either!”

Rush shakes his head. “Whatever, I'm not going to discuss this right now.” He turns back to the other Young. “So you're saying people aboard your Destiny know about you two?” 

“They do.” 

“And they're okay with it?” Young asks, before he realizes in how many wrong ways that might be interpreted. 

“Colonel Young, we're going into our eighth year aboard this ship. Most of that time we spent fighting, or running, or scrounging to survive. At a certain point people realize that holding on to arbitrary, culturally bound prejudice is just not worth the trouble anymore.” The other Rush gives him a look that seems almost sympathetic. 

“You should talk to Greer. Our Greer. I think that might even be why he's here,” the other Young says. 

Young takes a deep breath. Right. Talk to the other Greer. He'll probably be able to shine some light on this development. Make at least a little bit of sense out of this whole mess. It's not like it can be any more awkward than this is. 

“Alright, so can you piss off now?” the other Rush says with an annoyed wave at the door. It's clear he wants to finish what they started, and Young has the weirdest feeling when he sees himself smile in a way that seems both exasperated and indulgent. 

Young almost orders them to take it back to their own Destiny, but he can't seriously give his older self the 'Not under my roof!' talk. 

He turns around and waits for Rush to step out of the control room with him, before slamming his hand over the door mechanism. He just catches the other him chuckle and say, “That was mean.” 

When he turns around Rush is already storming off to God knows where. 

-

The other Greer is a good guy. Pretty much the same as his Greer, only a little calmer, a little more grown up. 

“Look, sir, if I can be frank?” he says, when it's just the two of them. The kino assigned to follow the other Greer hangs still in the air behind him. 

Young nods his assent. 

“Things got better once you and Rush started getting along. I mean, we didn't know the reason back then, of course, and it was...a surprise, when we found out. But everyone agrees that you two hooking up is one of the best things that could've happened.”

“Really? Everyone?” Young asks skeptically. 

Greer grins. “Well, almost everyone. It never became a problem, anyway.”

It's nice to know the people he shares life on Destiny with can be so accepting. That doesn't really answer his biggest question, though. 

“But _how_? I mean, how did that happen, between them?”

“Honestly, sir, I don't really know. It just did, as far as I've heard. But you seem happy together. When you're not fighting, at least.” 

Young frowns. He still can't see it. Sure, maybe there had been some appeal to the line of the other Rush's neck. And he can't deny he misses the physical closeness of being with someone, he hasn't slept with anyone in a long time. Plus, it's possible regular sex might make Rush a bit less of a bastard in general. But none of that is enough to get over their issues. 

“I just don't understand how sleeping together will change anything between me and Rush,” he says eventually. “I can't trust him. He doesn't trust me. How is sex going to change that?” 

He'd feel guilty asking this of his Greer. But this one is three years older, and technically not even under his command. Besides, he seems quite insistent on advocating the relationship between Rush and him. 

Greer gives him a serious look. “It's not just sex, sir. I don't know what you saw exactly, but it's a lot more than that.”

“Look.” Young sighs. “It's not that I don't believe you. Obviously your Young and Rush are together somehow. I just don't think I'm destined to take that same route.”

“I know,” the other Greer says easily. “But as far as I'm concerned, it already happened. And like I said, it's a good thing. For everyone.” 

Young snorts. “Yeah, I'm sure getting together with Rush would be a goddamn cakewalk, Sergeant.” 

Greer just gives him a mild smile. “A lot can happen in three years, sir.”

“So it seems.” Young scoffs, “I'm mostly just surprised they haven't killed each other yet.” 

“They love each other. I've seen it.” 

It's the first time he refers to them as 'they' instead of 'you'. 

Young's not sure how to interpret that. 

-

“How was your talk with Greer?” the other him asks about an hour later. 

Young crosses his arms and looks at him blankly. “Don't you remember?”

“Yeah.” The other him smiles placidly. “I know it's a lot to take in. Believe me, I do.” 

“I'm not convinced any of,” he waves his hand vaguely at the other man, “whatever you're doing, is actually going to happen to me. I still have free will, don't I? I can still choose not to do what you did.” 

The other him gives him a patient stare, and it occurs to Young that he has probably watched this exact conversation on kino plenty of times. For him it's not so much a conversation as it's playing out a script. 

“We both know you want it.” 

Young sputters. “No, we _don't_!”

“Come on. It's lonely on this ship. You're lonely. Can you honestly say you wouldn't be happier if you had someone to share this with?”

Young frowns. Of course he would. “I just don't see why that person has to be Rush, of all people.” 

The other him raises an eyebrow. “Who else did you have in mind, then?”

TJ is the first name that pops into his head. He knows it's not a feasible option, of course. Their history, _Carmen_ , stretches between them like an open wound. An uncrossable chasm that no amount of wishing from either of them can make disappear. And that's not even taking into account that he's her commanding officer. 

In fact, half the people on the ship are under his direct command. So, no military personnel. That leaves around forty civilians. Fourteen of those are women. Six of those women are single, as far as he knows. Maybe it's less. The one he'd be most inclined to date would probably be Doctor Inman. He doesn't know her very well, but she's always friendly, and she has pretty eyes. 

The other him smiles. “Yeah, she's seeing Becker.” 

Young glares at his double. “Cute trick.” 

“Look, of course you could find someone else on the ship. But it just happens with Rush. I don't really get it either, but I can honestly say I haven't regretted it yet. He can be...well, you've _met_ him. But he can also be brilliant, and funny, and attentive. Although you're going to have to exercise some patience before you get to see that last one.” He chuckles. Then he grins at Young impishly. “And the sex is amazing.” 

Young feels his stomach drop. “I really don't want to hear that,” he says. 

“Liar,” the other him laughs. “Let me just give you one piece of advice. His neck. He goes crazy over that. As long as you spend enough time there, he will promise you anything. It's oddly adorable, actually.” 

Young almost groans. A terrifyingly childish part of him wants to put his fingers in his ears and chant 'La la la la la I can't hear you!' at the other Young, but a voice in the back of his mind insists that this might be important. That this information is something he needs to collect, to hoard, because it could be useful in the future. 

Jesus, is he really going to buy into all this future nonsense?

The other Young touches his arm, puts his hand right in the crook of Young's elbow. “Don't worry about it too much, okay? It's going to be alright.” 

And then suddenly he's encased in a hug, and it's unexpected and strange, but it's also really nice, because his body is strong and warm against him. And just for the moment, he allows himself to hug back.

“What's this for?” he asks into the other Young's shoulder. 

The other him squeezes a little tighter before stepping back. With a light smile he says, “You needed it.” 

He can't help the embarrassed smile forming on his lips. 

“Yeah, I guess I did.” 

-

Two hours later, they're all back in the docking vault. The five doubles say their goodbyes to everyone, and Young shakes all their hands with a heartfelt thank you. Trying as parts of the day may have been, these future versions of them probably saved their lives. 

When it's time to shake the other Rush's hand, the man leans forward slightly. “Listen to him, but don't focus solely on the words,” he says, quietly enough that no one can overhear them. He motions his head at Rush, and Young frowns. 

“I have no idea what that means,” he replies gruffly. 

Rush quirks his lips up like he just said something funny. “I can't believe I fell in love with you,” he says fondly, and Young feels the breath stop in his chest. He can see it, now. 

The other Rush smirks, and when he pulls back his hand he lets his fingertips trail over Young's palm in a way that's entirely inappropriate. It looks innocent, but it feels completely indecent. 

Young's ears heat up and he looks over at the other Young in shock. The other him only raises his eyebrow at the other Rush. There's an amused set to his mouth. 

“Good luck, Colonel,” the other Rush says to him with a smile and a wink, and God, Young can definitely see it. Can definitely see himself falling for this man. 

“Come on, Rush,” the other him says as he puts a hand on the other Rush's shoulder. And with a final nod and a wave, they step through the hatchway. Back into their own Destiny. 

The undocking procedure starts almost immediately, and they only have just enough time to make it back to the bridge before the other Destiny blinks out of existence. 

“Where'd they go?” Scott asks with a confused frown. 

Young looks over at Rush. His Rush. The one he's going to fall in love with over the next couple of years. It's no longer quite as bewildering a thought as it was a few hours ago. 

Rush just shakes his head at his console and mutters, “None of this makes any sense.” 

Young smiles to himself. “It will.”


End file.
